Aftermath
by jungle.plant
Summary: Three years after the final battle, things can't be described as ..and they lived happily ever after.. HRHG !Second Chapter up! !revised again!knocking out commas like mad...
1. A Visit

**--- AFTERMATH ---**

By Jungle.Plant

Chapter One

A Visit

The young witch was wearing a pair of worn blue jeans and a dark blue cardigan, very unusual fashion for the place where she was obviously waiting for someone, as she kept tapping her fingers on the table in front of her. Her bushy brown hair was tied back in a lose ponytail and her long fringe hid almost all her face. She was smiling at the children going by Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour, who were without doubt just about to buy their first magical equipment for their first year at school.

She remembered the first time she had been here with her parents, marvelling at the unknown things to buy, the very curious people and from time to time one or the other magical creature. Now this still hadn't lost its charm, although she probably knew more about this world than anybody else, even the witches and wizards doing their daily shopping. It had been three years that she herself had finished school and it had been a long time for her to decide, what she would become for a living. It was especially difficult, because she had thought about actually going back to the muggle world to become a doctor and often pitied having missed all of the normal education. But then the decision was made and she never regretted it afterwards, although she sometimes longed to study integral calculus more thoroughly.

She started getting nervous, looking at her watch. They should have arrived by now. On the other hand this wouldn't be the first time they would be late. They had never really cared about punctuality much, obviously a family-trait.

In the distance she could make out the large white building, which seemed threatened to fall down any minute. Luckily she knew, that this was unlikely, as the Goblins, keepers of Gringott's had their ways of maintaining their main building. She shortly wondered if any book had been written about that building, with so many secrets it seemed very worth it.

Diagon Alley was bustling with life and many people had desperate looks on their faces as if they were very late for an appointment, running past the table she was sitting at. Others happily scanned the countless shop-windows, now and then giving her deja vues of past times.

"Have you seen that witch sitting there?" she heard another witch whispering to her companion at the table next to her.

"She was the one!" whispered the other.

She grinned inwardly and scolded herself for being so proud. But she had to admit, that sometimes she actually liked the attention. Most of the time she just ignored it, but sometimes it was just nice to be talked about.

Three Years. Not only since the end of her school time, but also since the ending of the second war. It had been very abrupt and the Ministry hadn't expected it to be so quick. But the Death Eaters had been scattered and the Dark Lord vanished yet again. The Daily Prophet had tried to research, what had really happened, but nobody seemed to really know about it. Not even Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.

The witch looked down sadly, her hair hiding the ragged scar running from her jaw to her right ear.

She was one of the few who had seen what had happened three years ago and still couldn't think about it without feeling a cold trickle of fear running down her spine. It had been the worst thing she had ever gone through and the evidence was still showing in her sad eyes. But what had actually happened she couldn't tell. The only one, who could wasn't able to.

Suddenly, a tall young man approached her table and she jerked in her chair almost falling down. "Hey Hermione, how are you?" He asked softly, helping her to stand up. His glowing red hair flowed in the wind, looking unruly as usual.

"I'm fine Ron, you're late!" She scowled, not really meaning it and looked around, searching. "Where's Ginny? Didn't she want to come?" Ron shook his head.

"She didn't feel like it, wanted to stay with mom today!"

"Oh." She simply said and took her brown purse and the single lily, lying on her table. "Let's go then."

They walked along Diagon Alley, approaching the brick wall leading to the Muggle World. Hermione glanced at Ron's clothing to assure he wasn't looking too unusual to step out into the street. He wore a pair of quite good-looking jeans, she had to admit, and a maroon cotton sweater over a white shirt. When her eyes travelled over his collar she had to chuckle unwillingly.

"Ron, take the cufflinks out of there. Little pink pigs don't really suit you!"

He obliged and went a soft shade of red. He still had problems understanding the subtle ways of muggle-fashion.

"How are your parents?" enquired Hermione, stepping up to the brick wall and pulling out her battered wand.

"They're fine." Ron muttered and they stepped through the opening.

The Leaky Cauldron hadn't changed a bit in the last ten years she had known it. Probably it had been the same for several hundred years though. The landlord, old Tom, was as ever behind the bar, waving at them cheerily. His toothy grin was genuine. Hermione smiled back.

"Why couldn't we apparate there?" Ron asked irritably, stepping up nervously to the door to the Muggle world.

Hermione scowled again.

"You know very well, that this is much safer. The Muggles aren't supposed to see any magic. You know what problems that can make." Hermione just said and opened the door. Ron still a bit sulky, followed her out the door into the rainy streets of London.

Hermione opened her large dark blue umbrella and waited for Ron to step under it, who looked very suspicious. She guessed that he had actually seen umbrellas quite often, but had never known, what they were good for. "Come on!" she hissed, trying not to look too out of place.

She linked her arm into his and pulled him down the street with her.

"I'll never understand, how they can live like this." He muttered under his breath, but followed her obediently nonetheless.

The London afternoon sky was a very dark grey and the bone-deep chill seeped through their clothes as they made their way through the streets of London.

Ron had no idea where they were, nor if he would ever find his way back if he got lost, but Hermione didn't lose her grip and pulled him with her, even faster than before. The weather was getting worse.

"Are we there yet?" Ron moaned, as he stepped into a large puddle soaking his socks yet again. Hermione didn't answer but stomped on determinedly. After what seemed like an eternity she suddenly came to a halt in front of a weird looking shop-window. Inside some display dummies wore the strangest combination of clothes, which reminded distinctly of a medieval-futuristic-crossover-with-a-touch-of-Caribbean-fashion.

When looking at those, Ron knew exactly where they were now. Happy not to feel lost anymore, he smiled and extracted his arm from Hermione's grasp.

"Thanks for the lead!" He said and approached the window. Looking around for any nosy Muggles who might happen to watch, he turned around and put his nose to the glass. "We are here for Herald Petersen." He told the green-stockinged dummy in the window, who gave the slightest wink with her plastic hand.

In an instant he found himself in the great Entrance Hall of St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries, looking at the bored receptionist, who bade her time by making paper birds zoom around the ceiling with her wand. When she saw Ron, and instantly Hermione, appearing, she let the bird drop onto a chandelier and put down her wand, examining them curiously. Her velvet hat, which sat on her head quite lopsidedly, kept sliding over her right eye and she kept pushing it up, smiling rather nastily.

"How can I help you?" she asked obviously trying to sound hospitable, when they stepped up to her desk.

Hermione scowled again, hiding her scar with her hair.

"We are here to visit a patient." Ron said, pulling his wand out and handing it to the witch. Hermione did the same. They weren't allowed to take them into the wards anymore.

"Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley for Herald Petersen." They told the witch and astonished she raised her eyebrows, staring at them curiously before looking into her books. When she had found her entry she let out a squeak and almost dropped the collected wands into her dress.

Setting her brass-rimmed glasses right on her nose again she smiled at them even more falsely. "Please enter my dears…. And feel just like at home", she added as an afterthought, sounding rather stupid.

Hermione and Ron didn't smile. They looked at her coldly and entered the Invisible Wand Restriction Wall. The halls of the hospital reminded Hermione of Hogwart's and its very old and very winded hallways, but here the atmosphere seemed more subdued than any place that she knew. She had the uneasy feeling of being in a muggle hospital, which smelled of disinfectants and sick people. Fortunately, the smell was rather pleasant, a mix of pine needles and marshmallows. Hermione was glad that she couldn't see any patients yet. Since the war, some people had never left this house again, and most of them didn't even look like themselves anymore.

In their death struggle, the Death Eaters had once more given their best in destroying as many lives as they could and this with the most brutal and evil ways they could think of. They had lost many friends during this time and Hermione had to shudder, when she thought about how she had found the body of Katie Bell, strangled and grotesquely bent, lying dead on the front steps of Hogwart's, her wand still tightly clutched in her hand. Hermione had to swallow, trying to get rid of the terrible image.

A nurse was leading them up a flight of very wide marble steps, leading to the Spell Damage ward of the hospital. Here they had once seen Neville Longbottoms parents and had come across Gilderoy Lockhart, a former Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, having hit himself with a very powerful Memory Charm. But this time they were on their way to their closed section.

Now they were off visiting someone else. They had been here every day almost three years ago, but when time went by, they couldn't stand being here so often anymore. Somehow they felt it was time to come her once more, trying to find the reasons, trying to see a sense in all that had happened.

The nurse gravely nodded at them and opened a door at the end of the corridor on the third floor.

It was very different from all the other doors they had seen, very plain, not having any ornaments that decorated it. When the door swung open, they saw that even the room was plain, furnished with only one chair, one table and a vase with a withered lily, aside from the bed. The window seemed to be too small and the light coming in was so dim that it didn't even reach the corners of the room.

The inhabitant lay on the bed very still, not acknowledging their presence.

Hermione frowned slightly and picked up the withered plant, which she gave to the nurse. "Could you leave us please?" She asked politely, handing her the flower.

The nurse just nodded and retreated, softly closing the door.

Ron stood at the foot at the bed staring at the person lying in it. His gaze seemed to be miles away, or even years ago, imagining better or only other times.

Hermione took the fresh lily she was still holding and carefully put it in the vase. It looked very lonesome where it stood and seemed to be completely out of place. Hermione now wished she had her wand, so that she at least could improve the light a bit. It made the situation seem so unreal.

As she saw Ron was in no state to move just now, she pulled up the chair to the bed and sat down on it, picking up the frail-looking left hand of the unconscious form.

After what seemed like hours, Ron suddenly turned around and pounded his fists on the table once. Hermione was startled out of her thoughts and turned to Ron, not letting go off the hand.

"Ron." She just said sadly, looking at him. She could tell he had been crying but seemed not to care about it very much. He shook his head.

"This is wrong." He said. "We should have come here more often." but Hermione shook her head.

"I know you feel guilty, but we couldn't have done anything and…" she trailed off. The truth was she felt guilty herself, but she just couldn't stand seeing him just lying there, having shunted out the world and not noticing anything going around him.

He seemed to be reasonably good cared-for by the nurses. His shock of untidy black hair shined in the dim light and he seemed perfectly tidy, as far as this was possible. But his looks had diminished somewhat and he was thinner than she had ever seen him. With his sunken eyes, his face almost looked like a skull and she thought, she could even see his ribs underneath his Pyjamas.

Ron turned around and walked to Hermione, laying a hand on her shoulder and looking down at his best friend.

At first they had tried visiting him as often as they could, everyday for the first few months. Then after a while, they visited once a week and then it was months they didn't see him. It had become too hard to bear and it didn't become easier, no matter how long it took. The doctors had done everything they could, they had been told, but nobody seemed to know, what was wrong with him, and even more importantly nobody seemed to be able to do anything. This was worst. The helplessness, feeling useless everyday in your life now.

"Hallo Harry." Hermione softly said after a while.

"It's been five months since we visited you last." She continued, smoothing a lock of his thick hair out of his closed eyes.

"They still don't know, what is happening to you, but I believe that they will find out soon. Ron and I have gone to a new task, trying to contact the governments of internationally oriented communities in the world to build up a network of the International Creature Equality Constitution Program. I know many people are still afraid, not wanting any changes, but we have already convinced a confederation of shamans in Canada, who will help us improve our connections in the Americas. Of course all this will take much time to develop, but I think we made a start."

Ron sat down on the bed, taking Harry's other hand.

"Hey mate," he said softly. "guess you weren't up to much lately. The Quidditch World Cup last month wasn't the same without you. Not exactly boring but not really the same. They released the follower of the Firebolt Supreme this summer, the Star Catcher. I think, you would like it, even has an enchanted trunk for long travels or for a sandwich during a long match. Mom's been constantly fussing over Petal, she's Bill's and Fleur's youngest daughter. Has her mother's hair and his fathers nose… well, from before…" He paused.

"Ginny didn't feel like coming today. She's been a little bit depressed these past few months, constantly telling everyone off for nothing. Well actually she has been like this for a while already, but she really got furious when Mom tried to make her date this Andrew Whompboulder. He's a nice looking bloke I'd say, but a little bit dim. Mom actually invited him over to dinner with the family tonight. I hope, Ginny won't hex him in front of the kids. Would be hard to tell them off for magic if they did it too. Well, I mean she doesn't really want to see anyone, you know. Percy is only sulking around mum, trying to convince her to let him check the family properties, but she won't let him, says she's still mad about him not talking to him some years ago. Well, and you know Percy, he's… well, he's Percy. By the way, Neville wants us to say hi for him He had an important appointment with a Guinean Minister of Magical Uses for Water plants. He's right into all the stuff now in the Department of International Co-Operation and the Herbological Office of Plant Research. I think, he's found something he's actually good at." Ron trailed off, staring at the hand he was holding.

The still form hadn't stirred, probably hadn't even noticed they were there. He lay there like dead since the time the War had ended. Since the time the Dark Lord had vanished.

---

A/N: This is my first story, so tell me, what you think! I have no idea, where this will eventually end up, but if you have any inspirational ideas:) please don't hesitate to tell me!

16. December: Hello everybody, thank you very much for your reviews, I was really happy about them --jumping up and down--.

As you might see, I tried to part from my favourite punctuation marks, some of the sentences were really a bit awkward ;) Anyways, I have some ideas how I will continue and hope you like it!

Oh, and btw, if you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me, am really bad at rechecking my writing…

DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own J.K.R.'s Harry Potter, nor any of the characters of her books. Only the one's I added myself.


	2. Living with Losses

**--- AFTERMATH ---**

By Jungle.Plant

Chapter Two

Living with Losses

As Ron had foretold, the dinner at the Burrow was all but a nice family meeting. Everybody was strained these days and the stranger didn't actually improve the mood. Molly was standing at the sink, preparing her famous Crunching Cranberry Cream Cake and tried to hold herself back from ranting at her youngest daughter yet again. True she had turned 20 only a few weeks ago, but this didn't mean she wouldn't have to heed her mother anymore.

The young man attending today's dinner was a well-built lad of about 23 and currently an apprentice at the Ministry for Magic in Arthur's new workplace. Modest Meddling with Magically Motivated Muggles Office. He loved his new job and the constant contact with interesting Muggles (which he had missed sorely, sorting out fake magical things)seemed to be the fulfilment of a dream. Andrew had just joined him at work five months ago, when Arthur was moved from his old Office.

The boy was very well mannered, but seemed to have difficulties keeping up with the conversation of the Twins, who were again discussing a new distributor for parts of the fake wands, one of their best-selling products in the joke shop. Molly still didn't like the idea of the shop at all and constantly tried making them do something else with it. But they only replied, that they couldn't. It was their destiny and by they way, Harry had told them to. The Twins were the only ones who could say Harry's name without lapsing into silence the moment after it. They always said he wouldn't want them to sulk around all the time and worshipped him like a hero. Which he actually was, Molly added as an afterthought.

She turned around, the Cream Cake hovering over the table for a moment before slowly descending onto the middle of it. Everybody smiled at her (even Ginny) and she sat down, starting to collect the plates so that she could provide everyone with a large piece of cake. Andrew awkwardly attempted to compliment Molly for it, which made Ginny scowl again at her large piece of cake, not looking at anybody. Molly started thinking it had been a bad idea inviting this nice young man. He seemed starting to realize that something wasn't quite right as he started throwing furtive looks at her.

Fleur and Bill sat at the very end of the table, their oldest son in their middle. The little Reed was three and a half years old and everyone called him lovingly Little Stub because he looked rather thicker than a blade of grass. Fleur didn't seem to care at all and enjoyed feeding him with everything she could imagine, Molly could cook for her. When she didn't stop doing so soon, he would shortly be as round as a Bludger.

But Molly was very glad about it. The little one was very happy that he could grow up in a loving family with nothing amiss. In the beginning it had seemed that little Reed wouldn't survive the first year of his life. He just hadn't started growing and seemed to get weaker every day. But then the miracle had happened. After Voldemort had vanished he started getting healthier and hadn't showed signs of unhappiness ever since.

Bill still had the scars of Fenrir's attack in his once so handsome face. Actually the family didn't see them anymore, but sometimes when Molly looked at him she became indescribably sad and wished she could do something. But there was nothing to do. They had to live with the past and somehow had to skitter on in their lives, accepting what had happened.

She thought of Harry. She had visited him a few times but it had been very hard to see him lying there and she had soon felt too distressed to stay. She looked at Ginny again. Harry had been like a son to her, since he had started going to school at Hogwart's, but then again she had maybe never been able to show him properly and she wished she could turn back time, changing the things she had done wrong. If only… but this was only imagination. Nobody could change the past. If so, the world wouldn't have suffered horrors as it had.

"Could you pass me another fork please, Mrs Weasley?" Andrew asked politely, as he had just spectacularly dropped his old one. She smiled at him. She doubted that he had been in any fights during the war, his eyes still held a spark of innocence the people around her had already lost.

She made a small move with her wand and a new fork slowly made its way from the drawer to Andrew's hand. The twins sniggered, whispering something they obviously thought funny, but Andrew just smiled back at her and continued munching his cake, enjoying it very much.

Hermione obviously was trying to be friendly towards Andrew and started talking about several topics she clearly thought would interest him. After a while she seemed to notice that he didn't understand half of what she was saying and became more quiet.

A few years ago, Molly had believed in a very different family constellation. When she had found out how Ginny felt about Harry, she had sometimes caught herself thinking about the best wedding cake recipe for this occasion, just in case he would finally propose (actually they had just started a relationship but you could never know).

Ginny was even paler than usual today and looked extremely unhappy. She seemed to be very far away with her thoughts. When looking at her daughter properly, Molly always marvelled at how beautiful her little girl had become. She had always attracted more than the average attention from the male half of the wizards but had grown into a very attractive young woman since the last few years. With her shiny smooth hair that almost fell to her bottom, she looked like the little Angel Molly often called her.

Tonight she didn't seem to have heeded this Andrew overmuch since they had been introduced and every time he spoke to her she answered quite monosyllabic.

Suddenly they heard a quiet tapping on the window and Ginny suddenly jumped to her feet running to it and pulling it open with a jerk. The blindingly white snowy owl sat on the window sill, a sealed official looking letter in her beak which was obviously meant for Ginny. She quickly took the mail and looked at it, her face unreadable while stroking the white owls soft feathers absentmindedly.

Everybody looked at her curious but she just sat down again quietly, stuffing the piece of paper in her pocket. The remaining evening was quite eventless and when Andrew stepped up to the fireplace to finally go home, he only got polite handshakes from most of the family and was tapped in the face by Petal who obviously seemed to find this an enjoyable activity.

Ginny just barely said goodbye to him and clapped him on the shoulder, as she walked back up the stairs. Andrew looked a bit taken aback but at the hearty embrace of Mrs Weasley, who had packed two large parcels of food for him, he smiled and stepped into the green flames, loudly saying: "Wellbottom Number Five.". In the blink of an eye he had disappeared in a swirl of green flames.

Ginny slowly entered her room, softly closing the door behind her. Hedwig had already flown up through her open window into her cage, which had been standing on Ginny's wardrobe for several years now. Since Harry wasn't able to anymore, she had taken care of the beautiful bird, drawing reassurance from her presence which seemed to be a mutual feeling.

She took out her letter again and carefully laid it on her desk. As she hadn't used it for a while, it was littered with uncountable rolls of parchment with old homework and an assortment of several daily Prophet clippings. On every single one of it a very handsome face smiled at her, the lightning shaped scar on his forehead prominent as ever.

She glanced at all the other pictures on her desk. Most of them were from school, when they didn't constantly have to think about the war, but where occupied with more stupid things like their OWLs, which professor had been especially mean, or which dress to wear at the Christmas feast.

Many faces that looked and waved at her belonged to people who had long since left their lives, fighting for freedom and peace, becoming victims of vicious Death Eater attacks.

She remembered Michael Corner who had become an ambassador for the Giants. He had been torn apart by their Gurp as he realized he wasn't in league with Lord Voldemort. Zacharias Smith, former Hufflepuff Chaser and Member of the DA in her fourth year whom she had never really liked, had managed to get into Auror training where he had been killed by a Death Eater who had infiltrated the Ministry as a spy.

Mad-Eye Moody had taken five Death Eaters with him as they had cornered him in an alley in London, Kingsley Shacklebolt was in St Mungo's, not having moved for about two years. The kiss of a Dementor who surprised him in a struggle near Godric's Hollow had left him without a soul. There was nothing that could ever bring him back.

Nobody in her family spoke about the absence of Charlie. They had never heard of him again after an especially brutal fight in Romania where the Death Eaters had tried bewitching the dragons to follow their commands. After two years of no life-sign he was declared dead by the Ministry.

But this letter changed everything. There was actually a chance that she would once feel happy again and she quickly sat down at her desk, not being able to hold herself back anymore.

The letter, addressed to Ginevra Molly Weasley, was obviously an official note by the Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries. She carefully opened the seal and took out the note as if it could crumble to ash any moment. She unfolded it and started to read.

_Dear Ms. Weasley, _

_we have considered your application for our Department and received the necessary documents from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, kindly forwarded by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. As she included a highly enchanting letter of recommendation, and your OWL and NEWT levels are more than outstanding (not to mention the thorough security check we had to conduct during the past few months), we have found ourselves delighted to inform you that you have been accepted for an employment at our Office. As we are convinced that you are aware of the confidential nature of this message and bid you to be as quiet as possible about these revelations. You will be expected on the 23 of October at 9 o'clock on the 9th floor in the Ministry of Magic, Personnel Office with Madam Enigmus, Secretary of the Department of Mysteries. _

_Sincerely_

_(name too confidential to put here)_

_P.S: This Document is unreadable for anyone excluding Ms Ginevra Molly Weasley._

Ginny looked up again feeling as if a dozen phoenixes were flying around in her stomach. She could barely keep from jumping up and down in her room, she wanted to go to the Ministry and wait in the Secretary's Office until the 23rd of October, but knew of course that she was being extremely stupid. Nevertheless, she felt as happy as she hadn't felt in years and couldn't wait to start working.

She pondered who she could tell about it and quickly made up a list in her mind about the people she trusted most. There were of course Ron and Hermione, Bill, the Twins and her father. She knew her mother was very talkative but thought she wouldn't tell anybody. She didn't know about Fleur and Percy and put them at the end of the list, mentally writing a "dubious" over their names. She felt as if she had to tell at least someone immediately, but as the house was still full of guests (well, actually it was only Fleur) she didn't dare to go down.

Instead she rummaged in the upper drawer of her desk and extracted a small leather-bound black book. She didn't quite know why she had chosen one looking so much like that of one "T.M.R." which had once influenced her to do really horrible things. Maybe this was some way of coping with her fears, maybe this was a statement to show herself she had defeated them. Nonetheless she always felt better when writing bits and pieces of memories, experiences and feelings in it. It wasn't so much a diary but rather a chronicle in which she wanted to document everything that was going on in case somebody wanted to know what had happened during the time he was gone.

She randomly opened the book in the middle, suddenly wanting to look at it to ensure that it would be at least a little bit interesting to read and not too stupid.

_20 April_

_It has been 10 months since Voldemort has vanished and still there seems to be no way of waking you up. We have tried visiting as often as we can, but the doctors keep telling us they have no idea, why you shouldn't be running around instead of being in a coma. They say they have tried everything they could think of (potions, spells, even legilimency), but you didn't show the slightest reaction (except, when they used that weird charm, that turned your hair into seaweed temporarily). Most of the time I try not to think about you, because when I do, I feel as if I just couldn't go on. Then again, I just won't believe that I will never talk to you again, that you will never look into my eyes and tell me, you like it when I'm telling Ron off for being silly. The others don't seem to fare much better, I think I sometimes hear Mum crying alone in the kitchen at night when she thinks everyone's asleep. Actually it's only me and Dad left in the Burrow, Ron's away very often, trying to establish the International Creature Equality Constitution Program he is doing with Hermione. I have started applying for the Ministry. You know, Professor McGonagall told me I would be a good Auror, but I think I have decided to become something else, I would rather not write in here and you might have guessed anyways what it is. I will visit you tomorrow, then I will tell you all this in person. I am looking forward to seeing you again, I hope they have moved Lockhart to another ward, he keeps following me when he spots me ... Goodnight, Ginny_

She read another entry a little further back in the book.

_12 January_

_There still is no sign of Charlie, the Ministry starts doubting that he is still alive. What's left of the Order has still not given up searching for him, but they can't find any traces. St Mungo's had quite a problem with their visitors lately, it has been going on for almost a year now, but it has become nearly impossible for them to hold back the masses anymore. Too many people tried to come and visit you and kept sending loads of fanmail and presents. They had to change your name in the registry at St Mungo's and the Ministry has managed keeping the owls away from you, except for Hedwig and Pig of course. Dad is currently thinking about changing to another Office, where he would be in contact with Muggles officially. I guess mum doesn't like it so very much, because she thinks his enthusiasm will become even more extreme, but I think it's okay. _

another entry read

_24 December_

_You are asleep now for over two years. I don't know what to do. I keep telling myself, something will happen, but how can it? It would have to be a miracle. I have wrecked my mind already, going to all kinds of libraries, looking for unusual books with unusual cases, which slightly resemble this one, but it seems useless. Nobody seems to have seen something like this before, unless you count being kissed by a Dementor. But that's totally different, they constantly stare and don't seem to be asleep, like you... I don't know what to do and still have no answer from the Ministry. I wish they would at least tell me they don't want me, so that I can go there and give them a good piece of my opinion ... Sorry, Mum's calling, we have to go now... Goodbye..._

Ginny leafed to the end of her entries to the next blank space. And started to write:

_October 4th_

_Guess what arrived today. I am so happy, I could jump over the garden hedge. I couldn't believe it, when I saw Hedwig with the Ministry letter in her beak. I finally was accepted! Can you believe it? I would like to see your face, when I tell you, if I told you, I mean. Actually I mean, oh, I feel so confused, I think I can do it now, I think I can finally do something, I can't wait to finally go there and start researching. Maybe I'll find something they overlooked. I am so happy!_

_P.S. Sorry for being so confusing._

Ginny leaned back, laying down her quill. She looked at the Ministry letter again and laid it into the book. She placed it in the drawer again and started pacing to and fro in her room. As it was quite small, she just managed to walk three to four steps until she had to turn in the other direction. This seemed to annoy Hedwig, who had woken up by the commotion and hooted angrily.

Ginny stopped pacing and threw herself on her bed. There was no way, she could sleep tonight, she would start training to be an Unspeakable in only three weeks. Still imagining what she was able to do when she had finished her education, she drifted off into a happy dream, soaring through the air, enjoying the cool wind on her face and trying to catch the shiny little Snitch, before Harry did.

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N/A: Next Chapter up :) hope, you like it. Actually I rewrote this one several times and think I like it now, it fit's perfectly with what's still to come (harhar, won't tell you :) ). Oh and this one was really fast, but i already had it in my sleeve when i posted the first chapter, so you probably have to wait a little longer for the next one (well, not too long actually)!

Oh and thanks about the "Anonymous Review" advice, didn't know about that...

Sorry so much for all the mistakes:(

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DISCLAIMER: As usual, not my characters, except those i thought up myself...


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